


Trouble

by genevieve_serdaigle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blinny, F/M, Hogwarts Era, Hogwarts Sixth Year, I guess it's an AU, One Shot, hogsmede, how do tags work, is any of this even helpful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 00:00:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17818013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genevieve_serdaigle/pseuds/genevieve_serdaigle
Summary: “Please stop staring at her.”“I’m not staring.”“No? Then what do you call looking fixedly at someone with your eyes wide open if not staring?”Blaise knows what he likes, and what he likes is Ginny. She's attractive (like him), confident (like him) and definitely trouble.





	Trouble

“Please stop staring at her.”

                “I’m not staring.”

“No? Then what do you call looking fixedly at someone with your eyes wide open if not staring?”

                “Fuck off.”

“Happily,” the blonde replied. “Be careful, mate,” he added, slightly more kindly.

Blaise grunted and resumed his _visual appreciation_ of a certain Quidditch chaser. She really was quite magnificent with that blazing red hair, those freckles and that laugh of hers… Why oh why did she have to be a Weasley? Her blood was as pure as his, she was bloody brilliant – it wasn’t bloody _fair_.

He had yet to properly talk to her, that was true, but somehow he inexplicably saw her as his.

“Morning,” Pansy said, throwing herself into the chair opposite him, her head completely obscuring his view. Blaise scowled. Pansy ignored him.

“Can you believe fucking Slughorn?” she said, shoving her bag onto the floor.

                “I can believe that my weekend has taken a veritable turn for the worse.”

“Charmed as ever, Blaise,” she sniffed. “Just because you’ve got a hard-on for little Miss Blood Traitor, it doesn’t mean you have to be snippy to everyone else.”

Blaise’s glare intensified, but Pansy continued, untroubled.

“We all know that this one-sided love affair of yours is doomed to failure, so you may as well get it over with and ask her.”

                “I’m sorry,” Blaise ground out, “but I don’t know to what or who you are referring.”

“Slughorn’s Christmas party,” she said, as though it were obvious.

                “She’s a member of the Slug Club, I’m sure she’ll have invited a guest,” he said bitterly.

“So you _do_ know who I’m talking about,” Pansy said cheerfully.

                “What do you want Pansy?”

“Oh nothing, Blaise,” she smiled, flashing her perfect teeth. “I think I might be able to help you is all.”

                “How? Why?” he asked, instantly suspicious.

“Well let’s see, you want Weaselette and I very much want to see Weasel’s face when you have her,” she licked her lips, “in fact, it would be _most_ satisfying. As to how, I think you need all the help you can get.”

Blaise scowled. “I think I can handle this myself, thank you very much. Besides, I don’t fancy her!”

Pansy raised one shapely eyebrow, arms crossed. Blaise sighed, almost defeated.

“Is it really that hard to believe?” he asked.

                “Yes, it is. You stare at her all the time, you watch all of her Quidditch games and practices –”

“I like Qudditch,” Blaise muttered defensively.

Pansy scoffed. “Nobody likes Quidditch that much.”

“She’s a filthy blood traitor.”

                “Maybe don’t _say_ that to her.”

“What do you suggest I do?”

                “Perhaps actually have a conversation with her? Maybe?”

“Difficult – Slytherin,” he pointed at himself, “Gryffindor,” he pointed at her.

                “You’re going to have to find a way to get past that.”

“How?”

                “Just stop over-thinking it and talk to her, please.”

“What do I say?” he asked, pulling at his collar nervously.

                “How about ‘hello’?”

“Uh… then what?”

                “You’re the womaniser here, Zabini, you tell me,” Pansy smirked, standing up again. “Good luck.”

Blaise stared after her desperately and then looked back to Ginny. She was still there. He got up and started approaching her, it couldn’t be that hard, could it? He’d done it a hundred times with Hufflepuff girls. He liked Hufflepuff girls, they were nice and sweet and not stupid and easy to talk to. You just go over, say hello, talk about something dull, drop in a compliment or two, add a cheesy pick-up line and voila… He had a feeling this might be more difficult.

“Can I help you?” a voice asked sharply.

                “I… uh…” he realised he’d been stood in front of her for a while. He hadn’t even said anything and he’d already fucked it up.

“Lost, Zabini?” she asked. “Where’d your girlfriend go?” she looked around him.

                “She’s not my girlfriend,” he said.

“Is that so?” she smiled and he found himself lost in her eyes for a moment.

For fuck’s sake, what was _wrong_ with him?

                “Where’s your boyfriend?” he tried to brush off his nerves as he leant against the bookcase. He knows this accentuates the muscles in his chest, and when he catches her staring he feels slightly victorious.

“Not my boyfriend anymore,” she said.

                “Is that so?” he smiled and she smiled back.

“Going to Hogsmede this weekend?” she asked, putting her books into her bag.

                “I don’t know.”

“Haven’t you got any Christmas shopping to do? Perfume to buy? Maybe some more mirrors?”

                “I’ve been told I have a natural musk and I’m well aware of how I look,” he leaned slightly towards her, his confidence restored.

She didn’t back away or flinch, but instead stepped towards him, drawing herself up to her full height (which wasn’t astounding but still a little intimidating).

“I’m sure you are, Zabini.” She smiled, a dangerous, delicious smile that set fire to her gaze. “If you plan on going tomorrow, maybe you’ll see me there.”

                “A bit forward of you, Weasley.”

She shrugged. “Unless you’re not interested.”

                “Maybe I am.”

She grinned. “See you later, Zabini.”

He stayed in the same spot watching where she’d been for the next five minutes. He walked back to the Slytherin Common Room in a daze.

“What’s got you so happy?” Malfoy demanded, as if it were any of his business.

Not even Malfoy could bring him down, though. He’d just gotten a date with Ginevra Weasley.

* * *

“Didn’t think you’d show up,” he said as she walked towards him. He was leaning against the gates to Hogsmede.

                “Oh ye of little faith,” she replied jovially.

They walked through the village, avoiding the busy spots so as to escape prying eyes. They talked about Quidditch, they talked about school, they didn’t talk about the war looming ahead, or about the attacks in the paper. She was funny, he realised, vivacious and completely outrageous. Malfoy would have been shocked by some of the things that came out of her mouth. He probably would also have been shocked to see them kissing near the Shrieking Shack, snow falling around them, a branch of mistletoe above them.

It didn’t take long to fall deeply and completely in love with her. She was everything he didn’t dare to be, everything he admired. She was brave, she was alive, she was definitely trouble.

“You’re on different sides of a war, Blaise,” Pansy had said, pity written all over her face.

                “Says who?”

Maybe he didn’t want to take a side. Maybe his only side was by her side. _Doomed to failure_ , Pansy had said. Not necessarily, he thought. Merlin, this girl had him filled with hope, Ginny made him feel like it could work.

He watched with a heavy heart as she became detached and despondent to her classmates – they never really understood her, she told him. Sometimes, she would say, she felt that he was the only one who could see who she really was. The only one who wanted to see.

They hadn’t told anyone. She said she didn’t give a damn what anybody else thought but he wasn’t so sure. Would she still claim not to care when people started to hate her simply because of him?

He sighed.

She was trouble, that was for sure. Maybe he didn’t care.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Another one-shot taken from my old fanfiction.net account. Kind of forgot that it existed. Anyway, feel free to leave advice :)


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